Thrustless
by Oseyeris
Summary: Atop the tallest buildings on Cybertron, mechs gather to play a dangerous game of life and death. AU/Pre-war.


_Italics_ are thought.

* * *

A proud feat of engineering and persistence, the building dwarfed its surroundings. The glittering structure rose from the ground like a colossal crystal obelisk. Its base consisted of four separate massive columns that twisted and merged together into one piece as the edifice screamed into the heavens. There were many shorter towers of varying heights surrounding the central spire. The smaller towers were each linked to the central one by inverted arches of metal. They clung between the spires like they had once been straight, but had slowly melted over the ages. The entire structure reigned supreme over the landscape. It was Crystal City's defining landmark.

The base of the tower rested on a massive pillar of metal which rose up from deep within Cybertron. A mass of webbed roads and transit lanes crisscrossed the surface around the base, with yawning gaps between them that opened down into the lower levels of the city. The chasms faded into darkness as they cut deeper into the planet. Hidden in the black at the bottom were the lowest levels of Cybertron, areas most bots stayed away from unless they were looking for something of a specific nature.

Only until halfway up the skyscraper did the separate columns weave together into a tight spiral. The tower slowly tightened as it rose ever upward. Where the spiral paused, there were large plazas separating vertical sections of the building. Above the plazas the tower rose further into a more compact coil. There were three plazas in all, which gave the edifice the appearance of being four twisted pillars stacked on top of each other, each skinnier than the last.

Its distant pinnacle was obscured from sight, swallowed by massive shapeless clouds. As the sea of gray slipped past the sleek compact spiral, it was cleaved in two. The parallel trails of clouds streaming from the black metal knife lazily drifted on at the mercy of the wind, only to converge again further away. Glittering starlight peeked down through the gap where the sky was visible.

High above the clouds and the glowing city, Thundercracker sat alone. His legs dangled over the edge, with nothing but clouds, crystal and metal below. His crimson gaze was fixed on the endless sea beneath him, and everything that lay beneath. The dim light from the stars illuminated his surroundings in blacks and grays. He was sitting on the edge of the world, his legs hanging over the edge of the tallest tower on Cybertron. The vertex of the building was a small flat circle with a lone narrow spire driving upward from the center of the disc. There was just enough room for about ten mechs to stand comfortably.

His thoughts were hazy, jumbled into an indecipherable mass. Emotion clouded his processor. Copious amounts of anger and hate filled him. He was angry at everyone, but mostly at himself. He was angry at the way things worked out, and at the way it had ended. _That fragger._ Anger was his instinctual and primary defense against other emotions. It masked feelings that burned far deeper within him and thoughts that were more painful to consider.

Hate, so engulfing and relentless, churned deep in his circuits. It roiled within him and festered in his frame as it screamed for release. It was hate that held him here, alone on top of the world with no company but his processor. _Black wings shimmered as the mech took a slow step backward toward the precipice. A cocky half smile sat on his dark lip plates. _It was his fault, not Thundercracker's. He despised the mech with everything in his frame. Unfortunately that didn't stop him from hating himself. It didn't stop him from feeling useless.

Buried beneath the anger and hate was sorrow. It struck him far harder. It wore at his spark, tugging and yanking relentlessly in every direction. The pain was enveloping and relentless. It would hurt for so much longer. He desperately longed to see that small smile or to hear that deep laugh again. It was nearly unbearable to consider those memories. His life had morphed into a storming sea of anger, regret and loss. To think of everything they had endured together and of everything they had never done was overwhelming.

_They sat together on the edge, servos loosely entwined. The shimmering city stretched out below. Tendrils of heat from his companion's plating danced gently over Thundercracker. Silence surrounded the pair as they gazed down on the world. Stepping back and watching it all go by was not just pleasant, it was necessary. The life flowing on under them was far away. The cycle of duty and recreation, stress and relaxation, sorrow and joy; it never ceased. All of the problems and issues of society remained below, confined to the situations and mechs that brought them. They were irrelevant and forgotten when it was just the two of them in the sky. _

The soft whine of thrusters tearing through the silence interrupted his reflections. The low sound carried through the air from the opposite side of the tower. Thundercracker turned his head and saw a lithe frame rise above the edge and gracefully drop onto the small plateau he was sitting on. The mech noticed him, but gave no sign of acknowledgement as he walked lightly toward the center of the platform. When he reached the spire he turned his back to both the metal and Thundercracker, and slid down into a sitting position. The night fell back into heavy silence, only to be occasionally broken by the soft sound of scraping as the mech tinkered with a piece of his plating.

_They had found reprieve in each other._

* * *

It was much more than just a physical relationship. They had shared the same views of the world, and of their place in it. But most of all, more than anything, it was because they both needed an injection of control into their routines. Life had a tendency to slip into redundancy. They relived essentially the same thing, over and over. The same mundane process they were forced to navigate with apathy. After vorns of this monotonous cycle, Thundercracker had stopped feeling alive. It wasn't really living when he wasn't making any of the decisions. He couldn't appreciate his existence, not when it was taken every cycle like a cube of energon. His life had become mindless repetition. He lived a chore. He wasn't in control, not truly. Sure, he could make minor choices. What additives to put in the morning energon? Perhaps it was time for a different color paintjob? None of it actually mattered. Those choices were minor. Different situations, different options, yet it was always the same result. Treading ever onward through life. The control was so hard to retain; society was always waiting on the outskirts of his mind to sneak in and steal it back. The only solution was to stop and step away. Holding his existence in his own control was his true desire. He craved the important choices. _Grasp on to life, or let it slip away?_

That was a real decision. In those moments, it was he who called the shots. Those were the only dilemmas that mattered. The decisions made in perfect, honest control were the only ones with true consequence.

The night was cloudless and clear. Thundercracker stood with six other mechs in a loose circle around the spire. He didn't know any of the other mechs present, except for Quickfire and the familiar mech with the silver wingtips. The latter was speaking, but Thundercracker wasn't listening. Repetition created a lack of necessity.

Instead he stared at Quickfire, who stood opposite him in the circle. Thundercracker drank in his wings, arched high and proud. He could feel his servos stroking those lithe appendages and the resulting small tremors that his attentions elicited. He gazed over the confident posture, the thrust of his shoulders, the strong arms and long legs. Quickfire noticed him staring and the corners of his lips twitched slightly. His ruby gaze slid down over Thundercracker's frame in return. Thundercracker could almost hear that silky voice purring in his audios. They had spent many nights sharing each other on the ceiling of the world.

Thundercracker glanced at the mech standing to Quickfire's right. He was a lean mech, average in height. Polished black wings sat low on his back. His visor glowed red in the dim light. He did not carry himself with the same confidence that Quickfire exuded. His arms were crossed in front of his chassis, and his shoulders were slumped. A small arrogant smirk sat on his faceplate. The mech did not seem to pose a threat. The bot on the other side of Quickfire was a lithe gray and red flier. A large scar marred the side of face, cutting from the crest on his helm, through his optic and down his cheek.

"…5000 credits each. No use of thrusters until below surface level, unless you're looking for an even faster trip to the Well." concluded the mech.

As he finished speaking, a quiet calm settled over the group. The only sound was the gentle rush of wind curling around their frames. Thundercracker transferred the credits to the appropriate account. There was a mild tension through his frame. Apprehension that was not undeserved, given his current situation. But the anxiety was far overcome by a raw sense of power. The rush he felt was simply too addicting to just abandon.

After a few more beats of silence the mech seemed appeased and he spoke again in a deep tenor. His low voice washed over the mechs surrounding him. "Good luck."

_The high grade was cool and the night was warm. He sat in a reclined position against the wall of the patio, his legs stretched out in front of him. Kaon was spread out below, a beautiful blend of color in the dark. The liquid was harsh and sweet. As he swallowed, he heard a door swish open to his left. He turned in surprise. A young face poked around the corner._

_Thundercracker called out to mech, who was clearly just as surprised that he was not alone. "Uh, hi."_

_The mech stepped around the corner and revealed himself to be quite young. His frame was an elegant design, compact but powerful with a deep blue color. White accents drew the optics from his shoulders to his waist. _

"_I'm sorry I thought nobody was up here," he stammered._

_Why the bot was even here in the first place was the first question on Thundercracker's processor. The second involved that frame staying for a cube or three. "What are you doing here?"_

_The mech looked at Thundercracker and then quickly at his pedes. "I just like to be alone sometimes, and this is a great place to go."_

_Thundercracker smiled. "Yes it is." He picked his cube up from the ground and shook it at the blue mech. "Thirsty?" He found himself hoping the bot was. _

_The intruder looked up from the ground, and his optics widened. "Um, sure," he stated awkwardly. _

_Thundercracker patted the ground next to his hip. "Come sit and enjoy this view." The mech hesitated for a brief second, then walked over and settled next to Thundercracker. His posture was tense and rigid. Thundercracker pulled a fresh cube from his subspace and handed it over to the mech. The blue flier accepted it stiffly. "A mech with a frame like yours deserves a designation."_

_The mech blushed into the cube as he sipped from it. "Quickfire."_

_Thundercracker let his helm drop back against the wall. "I'm Thundercracker."_

His jaw erupted in pain from the unexpected blow. The sweet metallic taste of energon filled his mouth. He hadn't seen the punch coming, and now he was dealing with the consequences. The mech before him held Thundercracker's helm with one hand, and was cocking his other arm back for another strike.

_One mistake was dangerous._

Thundercracker ducked out of the hold and kicked the mech in the chassis with both feet. He flew back, caught off guard. The mech instantly tried to rectify his mistake before Thundercracker could close the distance. His opponent attempted to right himself by flaring his wings, but the effort was in vain. Thundercracker grabbed him by the neck with both hands and crushed the thin plating covering vital energon and neural lines. The energon rushed out of the gaping wound and was instantly blown into a fine mist by the air screaming around them. The mech immediately stopped his struggle, forced into stasis by the critical damage to his systems.

Confident his opponent was indisposed, Thundercracker craned his neck upward. The mezzanine was rushing towards him. He was not far enough from the tower to fall past it. He curled his legs inward once again and kicked violently at the offline mech tumbling with him. The two flew apart, Thundercracker away from the tower, the other mech towards it. Perhaps it was enough.

As Thundercracker shot toward the edge of the deck, he saw the other mech below him slam headfirst into the metal he hoped he would so narrowly miss. The head splattered apart in a cloud of blue and gray, instantly obliterated from the force of the impact. The shoulders hit next. The metal crumpled upwards into the torso, which grotesquely splayed apart like a mechanical flower. There was a brief burst of cyan light as the mech's spark was released into the night, its chamber punctured by the jagged shrapnel forced into his chassis.

With his quarry now indisposed, he angled his wings and stretched them. Tempering his free fall and entering a smoother spiral around the tower, Thundercracker scanned the air around him for other threats. There were two spark signals on the opposite side of the building, below his current position. With target in mind he fell gracefully towards the pair, ever approaching the city floor.

Rounding the curvature of the tower, he saw two mechs locked together, grappling for control. The upper mech was Quickfire, attempting to pummel the mech into submission. Despite him landing what appeared to Thundercracker as a few solid blows to the neck plating of the other mech, he lost his advantage as the mech below broke free from the grip and angled away from Quickfire. The next mezzanine was rapidly drawing closer.

Quickfire spun in the air to locate his target. The black mech had repositioned further out so that Quickfire was now between him and the tower. With a burst of orange light and a high pitched whine, fire erupted from the base of the mech's wings as he shot toward Quickfire.

_No._

In that moment, Thundercracker could see it all playing out before him, and he was helpless to stop it. In what seemed like slow motion, the dark flier slammed into Quickfire, disrupting his trajectory and knocking him back. The unforgiving metal of the lowest plaza of the tower was rushing up to greet them. He saw Quickfire helplessly struggle to regain control of his descent, but the damage had been done. The sound of the frame slamming into the cold surface was sickening.

The world stopped. All Thundercracker could see was his friend's mangled body scattered over the area below. He was spread over the outdoor furniture intended to be utilized by the bots who worked in the tower as a place to relax during a break or as a gathering spot for a mid day cube. Blue spatters of energon covered everything in sight. The torso and head were still partially intact, but that was the only recognizable component of his frame. Everything else was in far too many pieces. His relief from the grotesque scene only came when he dropped below the plaza, and it could no longer capture his gaze.

Enraged, he streamlined his form. The other mech was well beneath him, speeding toward the ground. As far as Thundercracker knew, he was the only other bot remaining. Reluctantly, the jet realized he wouldn't be able to catch up. The distance was too great to close.

Thundercracker could only watch as the mech shot past the base of the tower into the lower levels of Cybertron. He swore loudly and repeatedly. The mech should have died for that stunt. The enforcer had not seen it transpire. The only reason his frame wasn't empty and dark was slim chance. Had he been caught, he would have been shot in the spark.

Blind with emotion, Thundercracker roared by the base of the skyscraper and activated his thrusters as he pulled himself out of the dive into a flat roaring glide through the lower levels of the city. He checked his credit account. Seventeen thousand had been added. He had split the pool with the black-winged mech. A total body count of five. He tilted his wings and began a wide banked turn back toward the tower.

_It could have been a beautiful night._

* * *

The scattered clouds refracted the soft yellow glow over the horizon. The solar cycle was ending, and the remnants of the light illuminated the sky in brilliant shades of red and indigo. Praxus lay below, its buildings and towers fading into gray as the night cycle approached.

"You're an easy mech to predict." The words were a quiet interjection against the serene cityscape splayed out in front of them.

Thundercracker turned and looked at the mech landing gently behind him. His optics brightened the slightest bit.

"You merely know me well," Thundercracker replied with warmth in his voice.

He looked back to the city sprawled out under him. It was beautiful up here, an isolated place few could reach and even fewer knew about. Thundercracker was alone, or had been until the interruption. He often enjoyed watching the night overcome the city. The practice was a natural justice, to watch the darkness wash away the concerns and worries of the hectic orn. Every morning the world would begin again, pick up where it had left off and march on. Watching society pause even briefly was cleansing.

Thundercracker felt hands touch the joint where his wings met his back. They rested there for a moment, and then one hand moved to the base of each wing. A light grip between servos held the sensitive metal. Slowly, the hands traveled upward, along the leading edge of his wings. The closer the servos moved toward the tip of the wing, the firmer they pinched. The sensation was overwhelming. Thundercracker barely suppressed a groan. He could feel the heat radiating from his companion.

"Yeah, I do." Quickfire's voice was barely a whisper in his audio. It sent a shiver through Thundercracker's frame. The hands fell from his wingtips to his hips. They pulled him backward, until Quickfire's cockpit pressed close against his back. Thundercracker's engine rumbled slightly louder.

Quickfire heard the response he was eliciting and grinned behind his mask. He tugged with one of his hands, prompting Thundercracker to turn. As the mech responded, Quickfire grabbed him and pulled him close. Their lips met with fiery passion. Both of their engines were running loudly, trying to cool the rapidly heating frames.

They fell to the ground, entwined in a lover's embrace. Quickfire landed on his back looking up at Thundercracker with lusty optics. The other flier was perched over him, resting his weight on an elbow to the side of Quickfire's head.

Their frames were flush together. Thundercracker wore a small smirk as his free hand roamed slowly down Quickfire's abdomen. The mech below him was so beautiful. Dark paint covered his chest. White lines snaked across his abdomen from his shoulders to his hips. His dark red optics were set in a young narrow face. They hadn't yet seen much of life.

Thundercracker smiled down at the face under his. When his servos reached Quickfire's panel, they remained there, tracing small circles on the hot metal. The gentle motions formed a wordless request.

Quickfire shivered and complied. The panel clicked open and his spike extended, hard and glistening. Thundercracker took a moment to tear his gaze away from Quickfire's face to look at spike between them. It was thick and begging to be touched. Transfluid had already begun to bubble from the tip. Thundercracker's optics snapped back up to Quickfire's face. Lust was clearly written over his elegant lines. From head to pede, the mech was asking for attention. Without breaking optic contact, Thundercracker pressed the heel of his palm against the base of the spike. Quickfire unconsciously bucked into the contact. In one agonizingly slow stroke, Thundercracker ran his palm up the length of the spike, pressing it into the warm frame of the mech below him. Quickfire let out a long low moan, and hooked his leg around the back of Thundercracker's knee and pulled him closer.

There was a certain satisfaction that came with being able to produce such enthusiastic reactions from his partner, he thought as he slid down Quickfire's body and took a position between spread legs. He took the spike in his hand. It was hard and thick, with fluid starting to drip onto the joints in his fingers. Without any preamble he wrapped his lips around the head of the spike. His glossa slid back and forth across the sensitive slit on the tip, as the mech under him grabbed helplessly at the smooth metal under them. Thundercracker pressed more of the delicious metal further into his mouth. His throat was bulging by the time his lips met the base of the spike. Thundercracker glanced up to gauge the mech's reaction. Quickfire was a mess, his optics off and mouth slightly parted. He vents were short and shallow, his engine screaming.

Intent on pushing him over the edge, Thundercracker started growling loudly. The vibrations traveled up through his throat into the fat spike. Quickfire whimpered as his frame arched. His shaking hands stopped their scrabbling and found the back of Thundercracker's helm. Trembling, he held Thundercracker's helm as he buried himself deeper into the warmth. Quickfire went rigid as he overloaded with a yell. His bark arched, pressing himself into Thundercracker's mouth as his transfluid spurted into the awaiting wet throat.

The mech collapsed, spent for the time being. Thundercracker slowly pulled the spike out of his throat, and let it hit Quickfire's chassis with a wet plop. The softening organ was covered in transfluid and saliva. The older jet glanced up at the mech below him and was met with a very grateful look.

"Roll over," he muttered to the mech between his legs.

The sweeping freedoms of darkness rushed down to meet them as the sky turned from violet to black.

* * *

Thundercracker looked around at the mechs standing with him. As always, the mech with the silver wingtips was there, standing near the center of the platform beneath the spire. Thundercracker found himself mentally calling the mech Silverwings. He didn't know the mech's true designation, and he didn't care. Thundercracker couldn't actively remember the other mechs arriving. Nor did he recall submitting credits. The process had become automatic, just another routine.

The motivations for gambling were different without Quickfire. It had been their welcome escape, their life within life. Now, it was his shackle. He was trapped in a bitter cycle of necessity, reliving his regrets on a consistent basis.

"Good luck," Silverwings spoke smoothly. He rose into the air, his thrusters a hum against the quiet canvas of the evening.

Thundercracker dropped into a defensive stance and glanced at the mechs around him, ready to fight. The mech who had adjusted his plating a breem ago was already raining blows into the chassis of a tall white bot. Thundercracker looked to his right and went still.

Two vorns later, yet the world turned red. That smug smile hung in his vision. Black wings for a blacker spark. The solution was suddenly clear. His legs moved on their own accord, driven by something much more primal than thought. Oblivious to his surroundings he slammed into the other mech. The momentum from his charge carried both of them off the edge. Thundercracker snarled and saw optics laced with surprise and fear. Looking past the face, the jet saw the city so far below. More time than he needed.

_Two mistakes were lethal._

A small gap in the armor below the jaw presented itself. He crammed his servos into the joint in the plating as desperate hands clawed at Thundercracker's face. The mech felt the foreign intrusion under his plating and started squirming, attempting to distance himself from the berserk jet to no avail. Thundercracker's servos caught a hold and with a yank and scream he tore the plating from the mech. The much more delicate protoform layer lay exposed at the base of his neck. Thundercracker was barely aware of the punches being thrown at his head. He scraped at the fragile layer like a feral beast, the screams of the victim lost to the wind. Below the mangled protoform were the energon lines and hydraulic systems for the head and neck systems in the frame. Surprise had morphed to horror. He scratched and tore until Thundercracker's energon mixed with the black mech's and sprayed back into his own face. His ruined servos found the unarmored throat of the mech deep in his chest. It was soft and tore easily. Thundercracker grabbed the tube and yanked as hard as he could. He felt it tear at the back of the bots mouth as he ripped it out of the now gaping hole in the mech's armor. The detached throat fluttered violently as it was exposed to the air rushing past them. Thundercracker never broke optic contact with the mech as he gutted him. The horror in the mech's gaze had turned to shock as his processor tried and failed to comprehend the sensations of his frame being eviscerated.

Thundercracker worked like an animal, ripping and tearing anything he could grab. Both he and the mech were coated in energon. He ravaged the frame until he could continue no longer. The bloodlust had worn off, and his servos were mangled and unresponsive. The light had long since left the mech's optics; his frame was limp. As exhaustion replaced anger, anguish roared into his spark. Fresh sorrow overtook the jet as he dropped his helm against the chest of the bot and keened into the mess of innards between them.

He had fallen below the surface before he finally unclenched his servos. Shoving the corpse away, he flexed his wings and flattened his fall into a glide. He felt no better.

* * *

The doors slid apart, revealing a small plain room. Dim lights shone overhead, illuminating the white walls. There were no decorations, save a small metal statue on the floor near the door. Chairs lined the walls on both sides. A lone bot sat in the corner staring at the plain pattern on the floor.

Thundercracker strode through the threshold across the short distance up to a desk built into the far wall.

"How may I help you?" the bot chirped. He had a disgustingly happy tone to his voice, Thundercracker noted with distaste.

"I'd like to make a payment on an account," he responded. He wished he could wipe the stupid grin from the bot's face.

There was an extended silence as the bot reached for a datapad and activated it.

"What is the name on the account?" the clerk asked without looking at Thundercracker. His servos swiped over the small screen.

"Quickfire," the jet replied in irritation.

A light tapping was the only sound in the room.

"The account has an outstanding balance of one hundred and fifty two thousand and sixty five credits." The bot looked up at Thundercracker with expectant optics. "How will you be paying?"

"Direct transfer." Thundercracker pulled a small card from his subspace and handed it to the mech. "Take it all." He couldn't help the slight bitterness in his tone.

"Certainly." The mech took the card and touched it to the datapad. After series of beeps, he held the card out for Thundercracker. "Your account balance exceeded the patient bill. There are four hundred and sixty two credits remaining on your card."

Thundercracker reached up and suddenly went still, his hand frozen in mid air. "The account is fully paid?" he replied quietly.

The bot seemed amused. "Yes. Is there a problem?"

Thundercracker took the card silently. "No." He delicately subspaced it.

"Spark containment is expensive, especially in the long term. As is processor stabilization. You will be billed again at the beginning of the next vorn. You should also know that replacement frames aren't cheap either," the receptionist supplied.

The jet turned to leave. "I'm well aware."

The room was slightly less dull on the way out. A peppy voice called at him from behind as he stepped into the afternoon glow. "Have a great day!"

Thundercracker took three steps, leapt, and launched himself toward the piercing sunlight.

_I'll bring you the sky._

* * *

AN: Reviews are cherished. I know it's been ages since I updated Hang, but I do not intend to abandon it. If you enjoyed this story, I encourage you to go check out my other story or drop me a review. I would love to hear your opinions, even if it is only one sentence. On another note, I have more time now that I have had in a while, so I hope I can write more. Thank you if you've read this far. Peace.


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